Safe
Pairing: Reader x Azriel
Summary: Azriel's night is troubled by a nightmare. He finds a soothing remedy in the arms of his mate.
Warnings: 18+ SMUT, nightmares, slight mention of gore, death, and torture. fluff, sensual, slow, sleepy sex!!
Word Count: 3k
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All that surrounded him was screaming— sharp and jarring sounds that filled the air, echoing against stone walls. Bodies littered the ground, twisted and broken, red and bloodied, faces contorted in agony. If he squinted hard enough, Azriel could force the colors to blur together, could convince himself that the crunching underneath his boots was the sound of crisp, fallen Autumn leaves— not bones. Not the people he’d killed.
Somewhere, a fire roared, consuming everything in its path, turning the world into an inferno of despair. He felt it in his hands, felt a burst of agony and pain. He heard crying somewhere distant, somewhere far enough to where it became white noise— but his own cheeks were wet. He was crying too. His hands were on fire. He was eight again. And nothing had changed.
A face—your face—emerged, eyes wide and red-rimmed, tears streaking down your cheeks as you sobbed uncontrollably. You mouthed something, the words strained and straggled as you attempted to scream. He swore it was his name that your lips let out, that you were begging for help.
Azriel sprang up, his heart pounding as a thin sheen of sweat ran down his body in a cold chill.
His gaze landed on two things first: the nightstand, where Truth-Teller was carefully, purposefully tucked into the side of the wood, and then to you—his beautiful, sleeping mate.
Azriel's chest tightened, the fear and anguish from the dream slowly dissipating as he focused on the rise and fall of your chest. Still, remnants of his nightmare clung to him like a shroud. He ran a trembling hand through his hair.
The room was dimly lit by the faint glow of moonlight through the thin white curtains. Azriel took a deep breath, grounding himself in the reality of your presence, the safety of your shared bed. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch light and careful, as if afraid to wake you. He smiled at your sleeping form, at how he wasn’t uncomfortable with his scarred hands against your skin— not anymore.
His shadows seemed to be sleeping as well, their dark forms curled around you protectively. All except for one lone tendril which hovered near Azriel, an insomniac companion mirroring his unrest. He let it twist lazily around his hand as he withdrew it from your face.
You stirred slightly, murmuring something in your sleep, and Azriel felt a wave of relief wash over him. He leaned back against the headboard, still breathing heavily, but the rhythm gradually calmed. He positioned his wings into a comfortable lay behind him.
Azriel closed his eyes, welcoming thoughts of the first time he’d met you. He reminded himself that you were here, beside him, and wouldn’t be taken away. His mind replayed the memory of your first meeting, of the way his chest tightened when you smiled at him— he had been a goner since that first day. He thought about your first kiss next, how nervous he had been, how you took his hands and pressed your lips to his, how your lips tasted of berry from the pie you both shared. The memories combined with the smell of you, with the warmth of your body next to him, slowly soothed the last remnants of his terror.
“Az?”
His eyes shot open and he looked over as you lifted yourself up, rubbing your tired eyes—still heavy-lidded and soft. The shadows around you stirred, a few of them joining the lone one that drifted around Azriel's hands.
“My love, did I wake you?” he whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
You shook your head slightly, a small smile playing on your lips. “No, not completely.”
Azriel's eyes softened as you shifted closer, moving to rest atop him. He extended his wing to wrap around you protectively, a hand moving to pull you in closer.
Your bare hand came to rest on his chest and he shivered at the touch, at the chill of your skin in contrast to the warmth of his own. He grimaced at the sheen of sweat that still persisted against his skin, but you paid no mind as you extended your palm across his chest.
You gave a small laugh, the sound soft and sleepy. Azriel’s heart fluttered at it and he found himself craving for the sound to be emitted once more— over and over again until he could savor it enough to be satisfied. Not that he ever could be— satisfied, that was. He never had enough when it came to you.
“Sorry,” you murmured, your lips turned up into a sheepish smile.
Azriel smiled lazily at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He grabbed your hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss tenderly. “You and your ice hands,” he teased gently, brushing his lips against your knuckles.
You leaned further into him, nuzzling against his chest. “Well, you moved away in your sleep. I was left alone and cold.”
Azriel gave you a small laugh, though it held a trace of lingering unease as your words settled in his chest. Alone and cold. His eyes glazed over slightly, now looking past the moment he was in and into something much darker— momentarily reliving the memory of his nightmare.
You placed your hand back on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your palm. He blinked once, twice, and then he was back in his bed, arms wrapped around you.
Azriel's fingers traced the contours of your face, his touch light and reverent— sacred almost, as if he were touching a prized treasure, something holy. He moved slowly, committing every detail to memory, ensuring you were real, that you were there before him. He took it all in—the curve of your lips, the softness of your cheeks, the warmth in your eyes. Mate, his shadows whispered into his ears, Your mate. Mate, mate, mate.
Safe.
His hand cupped your cheek and the golden thread within him sang—- a sweet, beautiful, haunting melody that pushed away the tension building in his shoulders.
“I’m here,” you said softly, your own hand rising to cover his, grounding him in your touch. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
Azriel nodded, his thumb tracing the line of your cheekbone. “Good,” he said, his voice steadier now. “Because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
You stared at one another for a moment, the dimly lit room filled with a comforting silence, something peaceful and safe. Slowly, you moved your hand to his face, your fingers brushing lightly over his cheek. You leaned up, closing the distance between you, and brought him into a kiss.
The kiss was tender and kind, and Azriel felt everything about love within it— comfort, trust, and a promise. He pulled you in closer, his hand wrapping around you, while the other held your face gently, his thumb caressing your cheek.
You were his. And he was yours in return.
Azriel deepened the kiss, pulling you closer, his tongue gently exploring your mouth. A soft whimper escaped you, the sound sending a wave of pleasure through his body, tightening at the core of his stomach. He pulled back for a moment, his eyes searching yours, dark with desire and affection. You only pulled him back in, your body pressing against his, a needy grind that ignited a fire within him, an insatiable need to be even closer to you, to feel you in a manner that was only granted to him.
With a swift, fluid movement, he rolled you both so you were on your back and he was hovering above you. One hand braced himself on the bed, while the other roamed over your hips and your body, feeling the curves beneath the thin fabric of your nightdress. His scarred hands brushed over the silk, the material still gliding against the roughness of his skin.
He pulled his lips from yours, slowly trailing down your neck, peppering burning kisses against your skin. His hand moved up, sliding under your nightdress, tracing the lines of your body. His touch was gentle, exploring every inch of you as if it were the first time.
You arched into him, hands clutching at his shoulders, pulling him closer. His name escaped your lips in a breathless whisper, a sound that made his heart race even faster. Azriel's hand continued its journey, caressing your thigh, your waist, before finally making it up to your breast, squeezing gently through the fabric.
You let out a sound, a mixture of a breathless gasp and a whimper, and Azriel’s eyes found yours as his fingers grazed over the peak of your hardened nipple. He rolled it between his fingers.
"Azriel.”
Your voice trembled with need and something inside Azriel stirred further. This was real, you were real.
"Yes, my love?" he murmured, his voice husky. His hand continued its slow, torturous movements, thumb brushing over your nipple in a way that made your toes curl. “What is it?”
Your hands roamed over his back, feeling the strength of his muscles beneath your fingers. You ran a teasing touch along the base of his wings, caressing the sensitive area with a chilled touch. Azriel shivered above you, lowering himself to press further against you.
"I need you," you whispered, your voice barely audible. His eyes fell to your parted lips and his lips curved into a tender smile.
"I'm here, my love," he said softly. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a deep, sensual kiss. His tongue teased yours, the taste of him intoxicating. He pulled apart to whisper, “And you are, too.”
You nodded slowly. “I am.”
Your words were met with a tug deep in your chest that left you breathless. You bit back a moan at the feeling of that sacred thread growing even tauter, at the feeling of his arousal drowning your senses.
Azriel pushed the strap of your nightdress down, watching as you moved it further to expose your chest to him. He pulled you into another kiss, just as hungry, just as passionate, before he was kissing down your neck once more— down to your collarbone and right above your breast. He took your nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, tongue flicking over the sensitive peak.
You gasped, your back arching off the bed, pressing yourself closer to him. "Azriel," you moaned, your hands tangling in his hair.
He switched to your other breast, giving it the same attention. His fingers brushed over your hip, your thigh, before finally slipping between your legs. He found you wet and ready. The fabric of your dress bunched awkwardly at your waist, but neither of you cared— too tired to bother with maneuvering it over your head, too lost in the desire that flooded your senses.
Azriel could have teased you, could have made the anticipation agonizing, could have spread his touches so far and light that you were begging him—like usual. Oh how he loved turning you to putty in his hands, watching as you writhed against him. But not tonight, not as he felt you beneath him, as he smelled your sweet arousal.
He spread you open with his hands, holding your legs apart as he took in your glistening core. His touch was tender, reverent, as he brought a finger through your folds, feeling your warmth and wetness. A low groan escaped him.
"My mate," he murmured against your skin, his breath warm against your most intimate place. “So beautiful.”
You pushed yourself up on your elbows to watch Azriel as he dipped a finger inside you. His eyes locked onto yours as he curled his finger inside you, eliciting another soft moan from your parted lips. You arched your back at the sensation, head falling back slightly.
Azriel brought his mouth to your clit, his tongue teasing and circling the sensitive bud. You looked down at him, mouth slightly open, eyes heavy with desire, and chest heaving. One of your hands went to grab your breast, fingertips tracing where your nipple still glistened with his saliva. Shadows met your hands, twisting around your breasts in a gentle, teasing attention — flitting just above the sensitive hardened peaks.
Azriel added another finger inside you, stretching and filling you as he continued to lavish attention on your clit. His fingers and shadows worked in tandem, pleasuring you in ways that sent shivers down your spine. Each touch brought you closer to the edge of ecstasy, a simmering, building feeling of pleasure in your core.
His free hand moved to grip your thigh, holding you steady as he brought you closer to climax. His eyes never left yours, and the intensity of his gaze made your pulse quicken even more. You could feel his fingers inside you, his tongue on you, and the tug of your beautiful bond deep in your chest.
You let go completely, surrendering to the sensations that filled your body— with a cry of his name, you shattered.
He lapped up your essence, savoring every drop of your pleasure. Rising above you, chest heaving, he breathed heavily as he looked down at you, something so beautiful, so real, beneath him.
You reached out to him. "I'm here," you whispered, your voice filled with love and an overwhelming, dripping need. "Please. I need you."
Azriel nodded slowly, his desire mirrored in his eyes as he maneuvered himself to rid himself of his underwear. He returned to you, his body aligning with yours, skin against skin, a tug at the connection that weaved your souls together.
He hovered above you, hands tracing the curves of your body, savoring how you felt under his hands— Gods, he’d never tire of feeling you, never be close enough. His light, his salvation, his mate.
He leaned down and pulled you into a kiss.
"Anything for you, my love," Azriel whispered against your lips, his voice thick with longing and devotion. The sound of it made you clench everything below the waist. His fingers trailed down your body, finding their way between your legs once more. He guided himself to your entrance, teasingly brushing against you, and the movement elicited a gasp from your lips.
You wrapped your legs around him, urging him closer, hands gripping his shoulders as you pulled him into you. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushed himself past your folds, a low moan escaping his lips as he sank into you.
"Fuck," he murmured. "So perfect."
Azriel intertwined your fingers and held your hands gently above you, his head resting in the crook of your neck. With every roll of his hips, he whispered mantras of love, devotion, and praise, his voice a soothing, low cadence against your skin. You greedily drank in every word, feeling them flitter through your body like aphrodisiacs.
The pace was slow, deliberate, almost lazy compared to the usual fervor with which Azriel ravished you. But it was exactly what he needed—soft, sensual, a reminder that you both existed in this moment, here and now.
You tightened your grip on his hands, urging him closer, wanting to merge your souls as intimately as your bodies were intertwined. Azriel kissed every area of exposed skin, thrusting into you as your cunt welcomed him greedily.
He pulled out of you as far as he could just to slowly ease into you once again. Each thrust was thoughtful, intentional, and your whimpers grew louder as he continued. Azriel traced his nose over your shoulder, whispering your name to make you turn your head— just enough for him to kiss you.
Mate, mate, mate.
Safe.
Azriel groaned into your mouth, savoring your taste and how perfectly your body remembered him— how well you took him.
He was alive and safe, in a bed that he shared with his mate— a mate that was writhing underneath him as he pushed you to another brink of pleasure.
Azriel's forehead rested against yours and he released your hands gently, allowing you to wrap them around his neck— bringing one to glide along his extended wing, eliciting a shudder throughout his body.
"I love you," you whispered against him, “I’m here.”
Those words were all it took for Azriel to deepen his movements, for his pace to quicken as he leaned into you more, kissing you deeply as he rolled into you.
With a shared cry of pleasure, you both found release together, bodies trembling as Azriel emptied himself inside you.
After he pulled out, Azriel spent a moment kissing you tenderly, his lips moving across your skin with reverence and affection. You both swayed together in the aftermath, riding the waves of blissful satisfaction as you lazily kissed one another, limbs still entangled like braided rope.
He gently pulled himself away and made his way to the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth and a lazy, adoring smile. Azriel cleaned you up with gentle strokes, his kisses following the path of the cloth as he murmured sweet nothings against your skin. My beautiful mate, my treasure for life. Real, sacred— and all his. Each touch was a whisper of love and care, an intimate ritual that had grown to a routine as the bond deepened between you.
Once he was done, Azriel crawled back into bed next to you, pulling you into his chest. He wrapped an arm around you, cocooning you with his wing to keep you warm. He didn’t mind those cold fingers of yours, didn’t mind the chills they sent across his body, but tonight he would keep you close, keep you warm. His other hand found yours, placing it gently atop his heart, where you could feel its steady beat, matching yours in perfect rhythm.
Sighing contentedly, Azriel closed his eyes. He let the scent of you fill his nostrils, let the sound of your breathing fill his ears, and soon fell into a blissful, nightmare-free slumber.
✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹
thank u to this anon who suggested i do something like this following my one-shot memories! pls enjoy this lil piece while i work on malice and LCL!! <3
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@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg
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The moon and his sun (Part VII - Final Part)
Aemond Targaryen x Female Reader
Summary: People would remember their story. Even decades after they were gone, Septa’s would tell young children about the one-eyed dragon prince and his sweet wife as if they were a part of a fairytale, too good to be true for the harshness real life possessed.
Aemond meets a young girl who quickly becomes his most cherished friend and changes the course of history.
Word count: 13.2 K
Warnings: Angst as usual, Aegon testing my patience, smut, and fluff
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 ... Epilogue
~~
She and Aemond had barely spoken since their fight, the strain between them growing with each passing day.
He was always quick to leave their chambers in the early morning, leaving her to break her fast by herself.
She didn’t mind, she found she had trouble even meeting his eye without feeling as though her insides were crumbling into dust, reminding her of how easy it would be to lose him.
It felt like dying a slow, agonizing death.
The door to their chambers opened and she instinctively perked up at the thought of seeing her husband, despite the warring emotions within her, but she immediately froze, fear rising as Aegon strolled inside as if they were his own chambers.
He smiled widely at the sight of her and was quick to take a seat beside her, entirely too close for her liking.
“What are you doing?”
“Joining my sweet sister for breakfast.” Aegon smiled, the gesture anything but innocent as he helped himself to the spread of food in front of him. “Where is my brother?”
“He’ll be back soon.” She answered immediately, as if she could use Aemond’s presence to deter him from staying. But with the way he looked at her intently, it was obvious he didn’t believe her.
He knew the rift between them kept Aemond out of his chambers for hours on end.
With a lump in her throat that grew larger and heavier with each second that passed with Aegon beside her, she kept her eyes down, beginning to sparsely pick at her food.
“You know I never thought much of you.” Aegon began, his gaze never wavering from her tense form that refused to relax in his presence.
She flinched and jerked away as Aegon’s fingers brushed against her cheek, her breathing becoming heavy as she fought hard not to smack the most powerful man in the realm.
He smirked at her as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling victorious at the sight of her discomfort.
“It wasn’t until I saw you bouncing on my brother’s cock…saw this body bare, saw the kind of whore you are, that it felt as though I was truly seeing you for the first time.” He crooned, his fingers tracing down the length of her jaw and down her neck.
As his fingers trailed downwards, getting close to the dip of her breasts, she finally snapped, her hand shooting out, gripping onto his wrist tightly, desperate to stop him before he could touch her further, in places only her husband had ever touched her.
“Careful, sister. The punishment for putting your hands on your King could cost you your hand.” Aegon warned, delighting in the fury that crossed her features. “Save that fire for my bed.”
“I will slit my throat before you could ever take me to your bed.” She told him with a fire in her voice that only made his eyes light with intrigue and delight, knowing he was getting under her skin exactly the way he wanted.
The door to their chambers opened, Aemond stepping inside wearily, though when he saw Aegon, how close he was sitting to his wife, his wrist encased in her grip, her face drawn tightly with hatred, did cold dread settle over him, washing away any ounce of hesitation he felt to face her and their fight.
“What are you doing here?” He barked at his brother, his face hard with a deadly scowl.
“Just getting to know my future wife.”
Aemond grit his teeth. It took all of his willpower to not beat his brother into oblivion.
“Get out.” He ordered sternly, though Aegon only laughed and leaned back in his seat.
“No.”
Aegon’s sharp response had Aemond flinching in surprise, his surprise overtaking his anger for a moment at the presence of his weak brother’s backbone. It seemed that the crown on his head had finally made him unmovable in the face of his younger’s brother’s rage that used to make him cower.
“I am your King, you don’t command me, brother.”
Aemond, without caring for the consequences or the threat of Aegon’s guards that stood outside the door, stormed forward, grabbing his brother by the shirt and hauling him to his feet, desperate to wrench him away from his wife who watched on with fear.
“If you have any hope of winning this war, it is because of me and my dragon. You are a drunken idiot that has no idea what it truly takes to rule and if you wish to keep breathing and sitting on that throne you will keep your mouth shut and stay far away from my wife.” Aemond spat darkly, jerking his wastrel of a brother in his harsh grip.
“I am already a Kinslayer and I will take whatever judgment the Gods give me for sinning again.” Aemond threatened him, his hatred clear.
Aegon looked back at him with nothing but disdain, hating the fact that he needed Aemond, needed Vhagar, to fight his cause. His harsh glare moved to the woman who remained sitting, watching the brothers with wide, nervous eyes.
“I will see you soon, Sister.” Aegon drawled out the word as if it were an insult, sneering at her one last time before he shoved his brother off him and made his way out of their chambers, leaving the couple in a tense silence.
Aemond breathed heavily and turned toward his wife, his eye softening immediately at the sight of her.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.” She spoke quietly.
Aemond watched her carefully, noting that she had yet to meet his eye. He sighed and sat next to her. The news from the council the previous night that he had yet to tell her weighed on him heavily.
She had been asleep by the time he returned to their chambers last night and he loathed to wake her, especially for news that would only upset her.
“We are to go to battle tomorrow.” He finally blurted out.
His words finally had her gaze rising to meet him, a startled fearfulness growing in her eyes.
“I am taking Vhagar to Rook’s Rest.”
She remained quiet as she took in his words, the growing fear inside of her quickly incapacitating her. A thousand thoughts ran through her head, most of them all the ways she could lose him.
The longer she stayed quiet, the more tense he became.
“I’ve talked to my mother.” He continued quickly, looking at her hopefully. “She has agreed to let go of the annulment. I’ve asked her to station more guards at the door. A group will be with you any day I’m not here. They will protect you while I’m gone and if I… if anything happens in battle… they will take you home.”
Her eyes watched him calculatingly, as if she were staring at a stranger and not the man she loved. Her mind was a mess of thoughts, none of which she could really make sense of.
Her silence rang out in the room loudly, agonizing Aemond. He looked at her intently, pleadingly.
“Say something, please.” He whispered weakly.
She let out a long sigh, her face impassive, not revealing any emotion. Even the sight of her husband’s sadness wasn’t enough to sway her.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Anything.” He practically begged, her monotonous voice causing an ache to grow within him.
She grit her teeth, looking away from him. “Do you really believe it?”
“What?”
“That your mother is no longer a pawn in that ridiculous plan. That a few more measly guards will protect me from your family. That in the event of your death, I’ll be free to go home and not thrown in the black cells or shackled to Aegon’s bed.”
Aemond flinched at each of her words, looking pained at the reminder of the danger she was in, the danger his own family was placing on her head.
“You are many things, Husband, but I have never known you to be naive.”
“I am not naive-”
“You are if you believe I am safe here, especially in your absence.” She interrupted him sharply. “If you were to die in battle, that would be the end of me. No one would take me home, no one would let me live out the rest of my days as a mourning widow, they would have their boots on my neck the minute it was clear you would not be around to protect me.”
Only a stunted breath escaped him, as words were lost to him.
He looked at her pleadingly, but the guilt that lingered in his gaze did not go unnoticed by her and it only served to fuel her anger, knowing that he knew exactly the situation they were in, exactly the hard rock they were pushed up against by his own family.
“They won’t hurt you.” He began and held back a wince as she scoffed and shook her head. “They won’t. I have to believe it.”
“You have to?” She repeated, almost mockingly.
“Yes, because I cannot take another fucking breath if I don’t.” He replied loudly, his desperation, his slipping control clear as he looked at her, his eye wide and brimming with frustration.
Her expression changed in an instant, the hard front she was portraying shattering the moment she saw how close her husband was to cracking. He had always tried to shield her from the worst parts of him, never wanting her to worry or fuss over him.
It wasn’t often he let her see him falter, but she could see now just how exhausted and broken he was over everything that had happened in the past month.
She suddenly thought of all the times he had held her, picked her back up when her grief knocked her down, and she struggled to think of the times she was there for him, when he allowed her to be strong for him when he couldn’t.
He didn’t let himself show his weakness, hardly even to her, and it was slowly crushing him.
“Do you truly have to go tomorrow?” She asked quietly, the fight gone from her voice.
“I do.”
There was a hesitation to him, as if he knew it wasn’t a good idea, but didn’t have another choice. He was burdened by the duty he was shackled to, beaten down by the sentiment that had been drilled in him since he was a child.
He felt this was all he could do, simply because his family told him so.
She hated they had such a hold on him, that they held such control over him.
“I will come back.” He told her, looking at her intently, as if he could will her to believe it.
She just nodded, her throat growing tight with emotion at the thought of how tomorrow could go so wrong, at the thought of losing the one person she cherished with her entire being. The thought of losing him was already unfathomable, but the thought of losing him now, never being able to heal the rift between them was enough to break her.
He stood, hesitating for a moment, knowing he had to meet with Ser Criston, but wary of leaving his wife, of furthering the divide between them.
He looked to her longingly, as if he wanted to reach out to her, to kiss her, to lavish his affection on her as he used to, but just couldn’t find the courage to.
He didn’t know if she even wanted him to, so he settled for a half-hearted nod and a mumble of goodbye before leaving her side once again, feeling as though the cracks in his heart were growing deeper and deeper with each passing day they were fractured.
She remained in his thoughts for the rest of the day, as she always did any moment he was not at her side.
He didn’t see her until that night at the feast Aegon was adamant on hosting. It was more of an excuse for Aegon to lavish in praises for his bravery for their planned battle on the morrow.
Aemond could only roll his eyes at his brother’s brazen showmanship.
They would run out of coin soon enough with all the celebrations he’d thrown in the short amount of time he sat on the throne.
It seemed parties were the only thing Aegon could think to decree during his reign, despite the war that raged. It was a wonder a battle even got planned with his ambivalence for planning anything that didn’t include wine.
He looked to his wife sat by his side, her expression portraying she’d rather be anywhere else. She boredly looked among the dancing couples and reveling Lords who were drinking copiously, their laughter unable to stir a smile of her own.
Aemond knew better than to ask if she wanted to dance. He knew she would refuse.
He thought back to that night, the beginning of their divide and wanted to scream and cry all at once for the state of things, for this dreaded feeling of being so far from her in a way he had never experienced before.
The thought of her not by his side was too terrifying to even imagine. The thought of her willingly separating from him broke his heart and he didn’t know how to react in any way but anger.
She had barely spoken to him since that night and it wasn’t as though he was any more forthcoming in swallowing his pride and apologizing for his anger that had struck her that fateful day.
Next to him, his mother sat, sending him a weak smile. Despite her assurance that she wouldn’t be forcing an annulment, he couldn’t deny that he had trouble believing her, no matter how hard he tried, no matter how agonizing it was to not believe it. So he did what he could to force himself to.
But he knew he would worry every time he was not at his wife’s side that Aegon would swoop in and use his power to take her from him.
His brother was certainly not above despicable behavior.
His wife was barely able to look at his family. A curt smile was all she was able to give as they arrived that evening. The only real emotion she had shown was towards Helaena, but even then it was only a weak smile that didn’t reach her eyes.
Aemond was sure it did not go unnoticed how tense the table of royals looked. He could only imagine the gossip that was spreading about them.
He felt as though he could breathe easier once his mother retired for the night, his view of her irrevocably changed since that meeting.
He tapped his fingers against the table erratically, stealing another look at his wife. A servant placed a new cup of wine before her and Aemond waved his hand, refusing another cup for himself, it was only making his already churning stomach worse.
“Are you enjoying the music?” He asked, internally wincing to himself for how awkward he sounded as he tried to engage his wife in conversation.
“Not particularly.” She answered monotonously.
Aemond’s lips parted, but no words were found. It felt like talking to a stranger than to the woman he had loved for years.
“Could you two cheer up?” Aegon chastised as he approached the table to fill up his cup. “You look like you’re attending a funeral.”
Aegon’s attention on her seemed to be the last straw of her already waning patience. With a sigh, she pushed her chair out and stood.
“I’m tired, I’m going to retire for the night.” She explained and left without another word.
Aemond watched her go with a frown. The lack of affection wasn’t something he was used to, not from her at least and it was enough to leave him with a sick feeling in his stomach.
“She’s become quite frigid.” Aegon noted, not bothering to look at his brother and catch the glare he would surely be sending his way. “Have you stopped fucking her? Is that why she’s become such a surly bitch?”
Aemond grit his teeth, his hands twitching with the urge to knock his brother’s teeth out. It seemed the drunken idiot had already forgotten about his earlier threat on his life.
“Well, if she’s not drinking it.” Aegon laughed, grabbing the goblet that sat before his wife’s empty seat, handing it over to some foot soldier from the Lannister army who eagerly swallowed it down in one gulp, the cheering crowd around him growing raucous.
Aemond could barely contain his annoyance, his desire to leave overwhelming. His fingers tapped at the table incessantly, itching to follow his wife, to be as far from Aegon’s arrogance as he could.
“Must you look so sullen, brother?” Aegon chastised him.
Meeting the glassy eyes of his drunken brother, Aemond was forced to use all the willpower he possessed to not throw a punch, removing the smug smile from his face.
“Stop crying over your wife. There are plenty of other women here-”
“Don’t finish that sentence.” Aemond snapped at him darkly.
Aegon scoffed, a multitude of insults on the tip of his tongue, but the sound of hacking coughs caught both of their attention. They looked to the Lannister soldier, his eyes wide, his face turning red as he gasped for air that wouldn’t come. He clutched at his neck, his body-shaking coughs bringing him to his knees.
The chattering of the crowd ceased, leaving terrified gasps and screams as men quickly surrounded the dying man, surveying for a threat.
Aemond stood from his seat, taking large steps forward, pushing others out of the way. He took in the scene before him with a growing dread. His gaze moved from the man twitching out a last painful breath, blood and bile spilling from his lips, to the empty cup on the ground.
The cup that was meant for his wife.
Something broke inside him at the realization.
He rushed out of the room, elbowing his way past the crowd. He sprinted through the halls, a shrill ringing in his ears, his mind conjuring the horrible sights that he would find.
What if he wasn’t fast enough this time?
He had already lost his child, he couldn’t lose her.
The thoughts raced through his mind torturously as he ran, his fear growing with each step. His pulse thundered in his ears, his throat tight as he pictured the gruesome scene waiting for him.
He came to an abrupt stop, almost losing his footing, his chest heaving as he narrowed his gaze on the lone guard at their chamber doors. The man startled slightly at the sudden appearance of the disheveled prince and he bowed, greeting him dutifully.
“Has anyone been inside?”
“No, my Prince. Not since your wife.”
He stepped forward purposefully, the adrenaline in his veins and the fear that lingered, causing his hands to tremble.
“Where’s the rest of you?”
“My Prince?” The guard questioned in confusion.
“Where are the other guards? There’s supposed to be more of you here keeping watch.” He seethed impatiently, the man before him blanching in intimidation.
“I-I’m sorry my Prince. It is only me. I have not heard of any others to be stationed with me.”
Aemond stared the man down angrily, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quite make sense of. He pushed past the guard and rushed into his chambers, his shoulders sagging immediately, expelling a heavy exhale of relief as he spotted her.
His wife lay in their bed, fast asleep and unharmed.
He stepped towards her on weak legs, sitting on the edge of the bed, taking a moment to just look at her, to ease his wounded mind. He knew he wasn’t reaching, that what had happened just minutes ago, that man choking on his own blood, was no accident.
Someone had tried to take her from him, again.
He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss to her forehead, reveling in the sweet scent of the floral oil she had put in her hair that night.
“I’ll make it right, I promise.” He whispered into the quiet room, needing to speak the promise aloud, even if she wasn’t awake to hear it. He needed to reassure himself that he could protect her, for he felt as though he had been failing.
With one last lingering look at her, he stood and stepped out of the room, giving a quick warning to the guard to be on alert as he stomped down the hall.
He made it to his mother’s chambers, barely acknowledging Ser Criston who stood vigil and stormed inside.
His mother startled at his abrupt entrance and her face twisted, gearing up to scold him, but she soon noticed the fear in his eye, the lingering fury that made her stiffen.
“What’s happened?” She asked tersely, placing a hand over her racing heart, her stomach churning for what she was about to hear.
“A man was murdered tonight.” He spoke monotonously.
“What? Who?” Alicent asked breathlessly.
“He drank from my wife’s cup. He drank the wine that was meant for her and barely a minute later he was dead.”
Alicent’s throat went tight, her blood running cold within her veins. She straightened her posture, attempting to remain composed.
“Rhaenyra and Daemon’s bloodlust knows no bounds.”
“Where were the guards?” Aemond asked abruptly, glossing over his mother’s comment.
“What guards?”
“In front of our chambers.” He clarified, his voice hard as stone. “I asked you to assign more, to ensure my wife would be protected. You said you would, but there was only one.”
Alicent’s heart raced wildly within her chest, the rapid rise and fall of her chest visible as she tried hard to settle her breathing.
“I will have a talk with them. They should have been there.” She answered, the wavering of her voice clear, forcing her to swallow hard in an attempt to get rid of the lump that had grown and threatened to stop her from breathing.
Aemond watched his mother thoughtfully, the sinking feeling he had already been plagued with growing tenfold the longer he watched her, slowly becoming aware of her charade.
His eyes moved to watch the flames dance in the fireplace, breathing out a long sigh as the thoughts in his head swirled like a hurricane. He wanted to refuse it, to not believe his mother would ever have anything to do with something so sinister, but her entire being portrayed guilt. He knew his family's ambitions made for crass and even sometimes despicable actions, he knew the way of war, he just never expected to fall victim to it at the hands of the ones who should have loved him dearly.
“I was excited to be a father.” He started quietly, the tension in his body the only sign of the storm silently raging within him. “I knew I would have done anything for my child. They could’ve asked me for the stars and I would have flown on Vhagar in the night and taken every one of them from the sky.”
The mention of the babe he had lost had Alicent’s chest tightening, her eyes beginning to sting with tears that threatened to give away the turmoil plaguing her.
“I don’t even have a babe to hold and I know I would have done whatever I could to make them happy.” His voice became stunted, anger tinging the heartbreaking words that kept his emotions on a short tether, the reminder of what he lost, what had been ripped so brutally from him and his beloved.
His lone eye raised from the fire and landed on his mother who seemed to squirm under his intense gaze.
“You… you weren’t even trying to keep me from my happiness, you’re trying to rip it right out of my hands.”
Alicent’s breath caught in her throat, her stomach sinking with dread.
“I don’t know what-”
“You know exactly what I’m speaking of.” He interrupted her angrily, his hands clenched into fists as it took all of his restraint to not lunge at her, having to constantly remind himself that the woman in front of him was his mother.
“Think about what you are accusing me of, it’s absolutely ridiculous.” Alicent screeched, her emotions fraying as she desperately tried to pull her son back to her.
“You never wanted me to marry her. You wanted to deny me her, you wanted to tear her from me even when you knew she was the only one that truly made me happy.”
Alicent rolled her eyes, her fear quickly shifting into indignation. That Island girl has sunk her claws so deep in her son, she scarcely recognized him anymore.
“The only one?” She questioned, almost sarcastically. “After everything I’ve done and you still don’t see that it was all for you, for our family.”
Aemond let out a bitter sounding laugh, a sound that would have sent chills down the spine of a lesser man.
“Tell me, Mother, when exactly were you thinking about my happiness? When you tried to force an annulment from the woman I love or when you tried to murder her?”
Alicent’s voice caught in her throat. Each word was like a slap to the face. The guilt churned in her stomach so violently she thought she was going to be sick.
“I know grandsire’s ambitions would have retribution, but I never thought you would bend to them at the expense of your children.”
Alicent sunk back in her chair, the fight swept from her as she realized Aemond was not going to budge an inch. She picked at the skin by her nails anxiously, her teeth biting her bottom lip incessantly as her heart raced.
“We needed to help Aegon’s cause.”
The whispered words were all the confession he needed to hear.
Aemond fumed silently, his jaw clenching so tightly it was a wonder he didn’t crack any of his teeth. His first thought was that he couldn’t believe his own mother would do this to him, to break him into disrepair by taking his wife from him, but as he remembered the forced annulment, he soon realized he didn’t really know his mother at all.
“We know what Rhaenyra would do to us once she sat on the throne. I had to protect you, I did what I could so our family would survive.”
Aemond scoffed bitterly. He too once thought his life would be forfeit once his half-sister rose to power, but the longer he thought of it over the years, the more he spoke of those fears with his wife, the more he realized how unfounded they had been.
“You really think my father-by-law would allow that to happen? Ixtal is King’s Landing’s greatest importer, you think Rhaenyra would risk the entirety of the realm, her position as ruler, just to do away with siblings she could not spare a second thought for?”
“You don’t know that!” Alicent yelled, becoming desperate as she felt as though her son was slipping through her fingers.
Aemond sighed and stood from his chair, heading towards the door, but Alicent’s sobs stopped him as she begged him not to go.
“Aemond, you have to understand.” She cried. “I had to do what I could to keep you safe. You will see that one day, you will see that I only did what I thought was right for our family.”
To hear her speak of the life of his wife, his greatest love, as nothing more than collateral made him feel sick, his disdain growing even further.
“I hope you will see one day that your ambition is what ruined this family.”
With those final words, he left, leaving his mother to sob in solitude. He numbly walked back to his chambers, the look in his mother’s eyes haunting his mind.
It wasn’t until he was behind the closed door of his chamber, standing in the dark room that he allowed himself to release a shuddering breath, his throat tightening as it all caught up to him.
His mother’s betrayal was like a dagger to the stomach, letting the wound bleed until there was nothing left of him.
His gaze fell on his sleeping wife and the dam broke. Tears fell from his eyes as he realized how close he had been to losing her and by the hands of his own family. It was enough to undo him completely.
He knelt at her bedside, unable to stop the tears that fell. His lip trembled, shaking breaths escaping him as he clutched to her hand.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He whispered weakly.
She stirred and blinked her weary eyes open, frowning immediately as she noticed the tears her husband was shedding.
“Aemond? What happened?” She asked tiredly, propping herself up on her elbow as she intertwined their fingers.
“I didn’t protect you.” He whispered, his voice tight with tearful emotion.
“What are you talking about?”
“The second this war started, I should’ve done something. I knew you weren’t safe here, I knew you weren’t safe with them and I didn’t do anything. I’m so sorry, issa prūmia, please forgive me.”
“Aemond…” She was stunned, watching as her husband, the stoic man she knew, broke into pieces before her.
She laid her hand over his that held her other tightly, caressing gentle touches over his hardened knuckles.
“Darling, there’s nothing to forgive.” She assured him, but the look on his face remained tortured.
He sniffled and wiped his tears forcefully, tearing his hand from hers and he got to his feet, making his way across their chambers to her wardrobe.
“I’m getting you out of here.” He spoke, his voice now full of determination.
“What?”
“It’s not safe for you here. You’re going back to Ixtal.”
Her heart jumped in her chest, it was everything she had wanted since this war started, but she couldn’t ignore the lingering dread that settled within her like lead, realizing what it would mean for them. The thought of separating from him was unbearable.
“I’m not leaving without you.” She spoke forcefully, standing from the bed, her eyes hardened as she stared back at her husband.
She knew it was a big ask to leave his family and his home for her, but circumstances were different now. She had already lost so much, she wasn’t going to lose him too, she certainly wasn’t going to let his family take advantage of her absence and shackle him to another woman.
Aemond swallowed thickly and stepped towards her, his hands cradling her face gently as he revered her with nothing but adoration, his decision made in a split second.
“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere but by your side.”
Her face softened, emotions swelling, tightening her throat.
“What happened?” She asked quietly. His change of heart was unexpected and the state of him she had woken to was more than concerning. It wasn’t often he let himself feel his emotions, except anger of course, and it was upsetting to say the least.
Aemond seemed to shudder at her question, his eyes holding a faraway look that seemed tortured.
“Not yet.” He said, his voice barely audible. He would tell her everything once they were safe, once they were far from King’s Landing and his scheming family. “Pack your things, we need to be quick and leave before the light.”
She nodded and rushed to her wardrobe, hauling out as many dresses as she could carry and tossed them on the bed. A sudden realization came to her, igniting her worries once more.
“Wait, Aemond.” She spoke up frantically. “Helaena and the children. We can’t leave without them, they’re not safe here.”
Aemond’s entire being softened. Helaena and her children were the only ones, outside of her, that he cared about above anyone else and her care for them, her willingness to accept them as her own warmed his heart, only confirming to him that he was making the right decision.
His mother’s betrayal stung, it festered in him like a disease that threatened to spread and ruin him, but he pushed it down. He would feel the heartbreak when they were safe in Ixtal.
It didn’t take long for them to pack their meager belongings. They didn’t need to take much, there wasn’t much of anything with sentimental value he would miss. He just needed his wife at his side.
They traveled through the hidden halls, quickly coming to the entrance of Helaena’s room. Aemond pushed the entrance open slowly, wincing at the noise, hoping he wasn’t about to scare his sweet sister.
He was soon shocked, flinching back as he met the awaiting eyes of his sister, her children cradled to her sides, bags at their feet.
“Is it time?”
“What- Helaena…”
“We are leaving, are we not?”
“Well… yes, but-”
“Let’s go. We shouldn’t waste any more time.” She smiled warmly, placing her hand on her brother’s cheek briefly before moving towards her friend, wrapping her up in a tight hug, her gratitude overflowing from her. “I knew you would be our saving grace.”
The whispered words of the Princess left her shocked. She had to shake herself of her surprise and hauled Jaehaerys into her arms. With Helaena carrying Jaehaera, their bags secured with Aemond leading them, they were on their way. His hand fluttered towards the sword at his hip every so often, senses sharp and at the ready for anything and anyone that dared to stop them.
It didn’t take long to get to the Dragon Pit.
“I’ll meet you outside with Vhagar.” Aemond assured her and with one last squeeze of her hand, he was gone.
Her heart was in her throat, her palms sweating with nerves as she helped strap the children’s bags to Dreamfyre’s saddle. Once Helaena was seated on her dragon, she helped Jaehaera up and strapped her in.
“It’s alright, my Darlings.” Helaena cooed to her children who were quiet and sullen with fright. “We’re going to a beautiful place where we’ll be safe.”
“Is father coming too?” Jaehaera asked quietly and Helaena shook her head, almost seemingly delighted to share the news of the absence of their father. But the child just nodded and whispered ‘good’.
She repressed a shudder. She didn’t want to think of the neglect Aegon had forced on his children. She swept Jaehaerys up into her arms once again, her heart aching as he nuzzled into her, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
“You like to swim, don’t you, Jae?”
He nodded against her and she smiled, brushing her fingers through his hair soothingly.
“I know where to find the most beautiful beaches. You’ll get to swim in the bluest water you’ve ever seen where the fish swim between your toes and jump out of the water to greet you.”
“Will you show me?”
She smiled and nodded. “I’ll take you there myself.”
With the assurance, he loosened his grip on her, more at ease. A distant roar caught their attention, the familiar sound of Vhagar. With one last look to Helaena, silently assuring her that she would keep her son safe, she slipped out of the Dragon Pit, hurrying her way up the hill where Vhagar rested.
Her hope spiked, her fear receding slightly as she spotted Aemond atop his dragon. Their escape was imminent. No one would stop them now, not when they had Vhagar to face.
She helped Jaehaerys climb up into the waiting arms of his uncle who strapped him in carefully. She climbed, her movements familiar use, not something she’d ever thought she would say in relation to dragon riding, but Aemond had been insistent over the years of his two favorite girls bonding.
She used to roll her eyes at him, but now she couldn’t have been more thankful.
As she settled herself, her heart sped, uncertainty suddenly overtaking her adrenaline, the gravity of their actions soon crashing into her overwhelmingly. She placed her hand over Aemond's, stopping him before he could grasp the reins.
“Aemond,” She spoke, her voice tight as her mind raced. “You have to be sure, entirely sure, that this is what you want.”
He sighed, as if disappointed by her hesitation, believing he would ever second guess the decision to run away with her, to keep her safe.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” He assured her, tilting her chin with his finger so she was looking at him head on. “I promised you, didn’t I? We’re going to Ixtal where we’ll grow old and raise our children.”
His words, which were once said in the comfort of their sheets, their love nothing more than a secret from the rest of the realm, soothed every ounce of insecurity that had crept through her veins.
She breathed out in relief and leaned forward, kissing him swiftly.
Dreamfyre’s roar broke them apart and they watched as Helaena took flight with her daughter.
“Are you ready, Jae?”
The child nodded eagerly to his uncle and leaned back into his aunt’s arms, holding tightly to her as the mighty dragon below them rumbled and stretched her wings, taking to the skies with ease.
The moonlight was their only guide in the dead of night. It wasn’t until they settled high in the sky, covered by the clouds, easy on their course, did she finally let herself relax. She leaned back into the strong chest behind her, her husband’s hand leaving the reins to wrap around her, securing herself to his front, his forehead rested against hers, a look of nothing but pure contentment on his face, a far cry from the scowl that had been securely etched onto his features for months.
She knew his decision to leave could not have been easy and she was terrified to hear what had happened, what the final straw was to get him to agree to leave the place he called home, to leave his mother behind.
She leaned into him, as if needing his comfort from the mere thought of what transpired to make him turn his back on the woman that raised him.
Aemond held her tightly, breathing in the scent of her, his eye falling closed in fulfillment at the feel of her skin under his fingertips. Even the brush of her hair against his face in the wind was the greatest thing he could have ever felt.
She was all he needed.
A weight was lifted from his chest, allowing him to breathe easier the farther they flew from King’s Landing. His family’s schemes, his mother’s betrayal, Aegon’s threats, they all seemed to melt away as the distance grew between them.
The sun was just beginning to rise as they spotted the shores of Ixtal.
Warmth bloomed within her at the sight of her home, knowing she was only minutes from reuniting with her family.
She felt jittery, anxious excitement taking over every inch of her as they landed on the shores. A slew of guards were already waiting for them on the shores, the dragons having been spotted in the distance and causing mayhem in fear of a potential attack.
Among the pointed spears and swords, she spotted her father’s face. She breathed shakily, eagerly undoing the straps around her waist, charging down from Vhagar’s back despite Aemond’s protests.
She didn’t care for safety, she didn’t care for decorum. She charged towards the group of guards who soon lowered their weapons at their leader’s cries for a cease. Her father pushed the guards out of his way, coming to the front of the blockade, the sight of her causing tears to brim in his eyes.
Barely a second later, she was in his arms, the force of her embrace almost knocking him off his feet.
“You’re here.” He breathed out, holding tightly to his beloved daughter with a force that could only be portrayed by that of a father with a heavy heart. “How are you here? I haven’t heard from you in weeks, we thought-”
His words stopped as he noticed Aemond’s presence over her shoulder. His brows furrowed at the sight of the young child in his arms, his confusion only furthered as Princess Helaena stepped forward, another child in her arms.
“You brought an entourage?”
Her face turned serious, worrying him immediately.
“Father, we… we’re seeking refuge from King’s Landing. It’s no longer safe for us there.”
He looked at his daughter incredulously, sensing there would be a long story to come. He nodded stiffly, having trouble tearing his eyes away from his daughter, his little girl he had been fraught with worry over the past moons.
A yell of her name sounded, catching their attention. Her face smoothed out, her worry disappearing as a bright smile grew.
“Mother!” She called out, racing past her father and the litany of guards still standing at attention to seek out her mother who had raced out of the palace at the sight of the dragons, her arms open and ready for her daughter.
Aemond watched, an ease settling over him as he saw her smile again, that bright, wondrous sight that could only assure him he had done the right thing.
The Lord of Ixtal stepped forward, sending a polite smile to Helaena and eyeing the children with a soft gaze.
“Come, you must be exhausted from your journey.” He motioned them forward, allowing Helaena to lead, hand in hand with her twins, the two men settling in a matching pace side by side. “I knew you were the right man for the job.”
Aemond looked at the man beside him questioningly.
“I knew you would keep my daughter safe. I never had any doubt.”
The young prince seemed to deflate under the praise. The guilt that had been festering within him unfurled, overtaking him so powerfully, he stopped walking.
“I didn’t- there was… it was too close-”
“Aemond,” His father-by-law placed his hand on his shoulder, squeezing comfortingly. “You’re here. You brought her home, safe and sound.”
“But I couldn't-”
“You are one man. You cannot fight the entire world of enemies alone, especially not when they are your own family.”
Aemond’s eye widened, looking perplexed by his words. The Lord just smiled sadly and shook his head.
“I had my suspicions from the start. I knew they didn’t want you to marry her, I knew their ambitions would become too great.”
Aemond just nodded stiffly, the words getting caught in his throat, not yet able to voice just what his family, his own mother, had done.
“You’re a good man, Aemond. I hope you’ll be happy here.”
“I will be.” He spoke, his voice laced with conviction, as if there were no doubts in his mind about his life now that he was standing on the sandy beaches of Ixtal, his future no longer out of his own control.
They stepped into the palace, his eyes finding her immediately. Her mother left her daughter’s side, coming towards him, a tearful smile gracing her features.
Before he could say a word, she wrapped him in a tight hug.
“Thank you.” She whispered to him, the words and the affectionate gesture plucking at his weakest points. The affection of a mother, a caring and kind soul, reminding him of what he had just lost, what he had purposefully stepped away from.
But it had never been like this. Alicent had never held him this tight, he had never felt love from his mother in a single touch, not like he was now from a woman he had met only a handful of times before.
“You three look like you have hiked through the seven hells and back. Why don’t you rest for a while longer, we can talk later.” Her mother suggested.
Helaena was guided to her new chambers for her and the children, her smile wide, no trace of derision from her escape. She seemed all too happy to be back to the place she had fallen in love with in that first visit years ago.
Aemond let his wife lead him to her old childhood chambers.
He stepped in, taking in a deep breath, letting the events of the night roll off his back. He looked at the dried flowers and childhood drawings that lined the walls, some hers, some her siblings that had been gifted to her years ago that she couldn’t bear to part with.
Her sentimental heart never failed to warm his own.
As he set their bags down, his gaze fell to the view of the horizon from the balcony, picturing the chaos that would be ensuing across the sea in King’s Landing as their absence was discovered.
He thought of his mother and the state she would be in once she realized both he and Helaena were gone, her grandchildren safe from their clutches.
He let out a shaking breath and barely a second later, arms were winding around his waist. He hummed a grateful sounding noise, placing a hand over her clasped ones at his front.
“What are you thinking about?”
“They’ll send search parties.” He mused, his mind beginning to conjure the many ways his brother and grandsire could ruin the peace they tried to find for themselves.
“My father will handle it.” She assured him. “Besides, no one would dare try to force Vhagar away from here.”
He smiled, his eyes falling to his mighty dragon that was basking in the sun, her wings fluttering in the waves that crashed onto the shore, her rumbles of contentment echoing up to their room. He looked over his shoulder at his wife, the warm feeling in chest growing at the sight of her, the ease she now carried around her.
“Thank you.”
Her eyes softened, a small smile growing. “I think I should be saying that to you.”
He had a million things he wanted to say but no idea how to say them. So he settled for kissing her softly, hoping it conveyed every ounce of love and adoration he held for her, the thanks he wanted to bestow upon her for saving his life, for saving his sister and her children.
He pulled away regretfully, letting his forehead rest against hers as he thought over how close he had come to losing her just hours ago, causing tears to brim in his eye.
“I’m sorry.” He choked out, emotion welling his throat yet again.
Her brows furrowed, not used to seeing him break as he was now, as he did just hours ago.
“I haven’t been a good husband.”
“Aemond-”
“I haven’t.” He spoke again, interrupting her attempt to soothe him. “I didn’t listen, I thought I could fight against everything alone. I pushed you away and I hurt you.”
She watched him carefully, noting the guilt that seemed to seep out of every inch of him.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it all, I swear.” He whispered frantically, as if he was desperate for her to believe him, as if she had any doubt.
“What happened?” She questioned again, looking at him worriedly, but he shook his head, pushing the thought of this mother, of that man choking on his own blood, from his mind.
“Not yet.” He whispered again, not yet ready to reveal to her the threat on her life, not wanting to break the peace they’d finally found after months of such heart-breaking tension.
She was in his arms, they were safe, his sister and her children were safe. That was all that mattered.
He kissed her again, this time firmer, more sure of himself. After tumultuous weeks of grieving and then spite between them, they hadn’t been close like this in ages. It had been too long since he had made love to his sweet wife.
She melted into him, the feel of his hands on her, his lips against hers so desperately, was enough to heal the wounds in her heart the war had caused.
“You are so beautiful.” He whispered as he planted kisses down the slope of her neck. “You are so wonderful, so kind. You have the most perfect, golden heart.”
He lavished praise as his hands untied the laces of her gown, his lips finding their place over her racing heart, the heart that had given him so much love, enough to heal a boy doomed from the start.
They moved slowly, treasuring each gentle caress and loving kiss as they stripped themselves bare. The waking nightmares they had been faced with in King’s Landing melted into nothing but old memories in the wake of their embrace.
For so long, after the attack and losing their child, she had felt so disconnected to her own body. Now, as Aemond kissed every inch of her, as his hands roamed the familiar curves of her body, she felt she was finally herself again.
She had spent too long watching her husband succumb to who his family wanted him to be. It made her determined to remind him why she loved him, how much she cherished him.
Her hand slithered down the strong planes of his chest, his breath hitching as it traveled lower and lower until she gently grasped his stiff length in her hand that twitched with desire under her touch.
Breaths left him in desperate pants as she stroked him, her touch familiar yet so missed. He repressed a shiver as she quickened her pace, her eyes watching him intently, the sight of his pleasure a welcome reprieve to how tightly wound she’d seen him for months.
He moaned and quickly grabbed her hand, stopping her motions. He would not spill too early, before he even had the chance to bring her pleasure.
She squealed in surprise, her laugh ringing out in the room as he picked her up and eagerly carried her to the bed. Her delighted giggles continued as she fell back on the soft mattress below her, biting her lip and practically writhing at the heated look from the man above her.
She reached up, taking his eye patch off and tossing it to the side, needing to see all of him.
Aemond wasted no time, he couldn’t go another second without her. He spread her legs and kneeled before her, his mouth devouring her with a fervor of a man starved, moaning at the delectable taste of her.
She cried out, her hand falling to his head, tangling her fingers in his hair, pulling with each deliberately devastating stroke of his tongue.
Her body was powerless against him, a litany of praise falling past her lips without her knowledge, mindlessly calling out to him, divulging every ounce of her love for him, both cursing and acclaiming his tongue and his ability to render her completely mindless.
He growled against her, the sound of his name spoken so breathlessly, so desperately, quickly becoming his undoing. He quickened his pace, his need to push her over the edge growing as his own desires did.
She almost screamed, her back arching as he added his fingers, curling them in just the way he knew would drive her crazy.
Her hands twisted into the sheets below her, her legs beginning to quiver from their place over his shoulders as he worked her to the cusp of ecstasy.
“Aemond!” She cried out as his wicked tongue and fingers brought her to a blinding peak.
She panted heavily, her limbs still trembling from the force of her release, barely able to comprehend the heated kiss Aemond pressed to her lips, the taste of her on his tongue making her moan.
The soft sound turned into another high pitched cry as he entered her slowly, a shuddering breath falling past his own lips as they joined for the first time in months. He stilled, needing a moment before he lost his composure completely.
He gazed at her below him, his lone eye shining, the love he felt for her in that moment suddenly overwhelming. He ducked his head into the crook of her neck, squeezing his eye shut as her hand caressed through his hair, her soft lips brushing against his temple.
“It’s alright.” She whispered. “I’m here. I won’t ever be parted from your side.”
Her words, as if she knew exactly what had happened just hours ago, the attempt on her life on the orders of his own family, were the salve to the torment running through his head since he learned of the threat against her.
He raised his head, kissing her firmly, his tongue tangling with hers, desperate for her touch, her taste, every inch of her.
“No one will ever take you from me.” He spoke softly, though the air of determination surrounding his words did not go unnoticed, whether to reassure her or himself he wasn’t sure.
His hips began to move rhythmically, thrusting in and out of her gently, as if it were their first time again.
She sighed, her eyes fluttering closed. Her hands gripped onto his back, feeling his muscle ripple under his skin as he moved.
She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him tightly as he made love to her as if he were afraid to break her, afraid to cause her any more harm than what she had endured since the war started.
“Aemond,” She breathed out, leaning upwards, her nose brushing against his as she brushed her lips against his. “I’m ok. You can go faster, I can take it.”
His face twisted, memories of the night of the attack, of her screams and cries of agony, of how close she had been last night to succumbing to the war. The thoughts were torturous.
“I can’t-” He choked out, his jaw clenching, his brows furrowed as if he were in pain himself. “I can’t hurt you.”
“You won’t. I know you would never.” She assured him, her hands cradling his face as she looked at him intently, pure trust and love echoing through her eyes.
He exhaled loudly, allowing his pace to quicken slightly, the moan she let out like music to his ears, soothing every ounce of his worry.
“I trust you.” She whispered and his resolve shattered completely in an instant.
He whimpered and began to thrust into her harder, his movements becoming more assured, his hunger for her reaching its peak, his hips now crashing against hers purposefully, moans falling freely from his lips as she cried out at every hard thrust, his cock hitting that place inside her that made her writhe against him.
Her noises were beautiful, they sent shivers down his spine, made his head spin in that delightful way only she could give him. He never liked to feel as though he wasn’t in control, but with her he welcomed the feeling.
She was the only one he felt safe around to let himself feel it.
He gripped onto her thigh, hiking it higher on his hip, allowing him to reach deeper inside her, her name like a desperate prayer on his lips as he felt himself nearing his end. It had been too long and he was no match for her perfect body.
He brought his hand down, his thumb brushing against her clit, desperate to bring her with him. It didn’t take long until she trembled against him, her nails digging into his back, her head thrown back against the sheets as she cried out loudly.
The feeling of her tightening around him and the sight of her lost in pleasure beneath him undid him effortlessly. He gasped, his movements becoming more frantic in his end, frantic groans following with each of his movements. It hit him like a wave, crashing over him all at once. He cried out, a sound more desperate than she had ever heard from him, his body stiffening before falling lax as he came hard.
His eye fell shut as the haze of pleasure overtook him. He breathed harshly, letting the aftershocks of bliss roll through his shaking limbs. Her hands brushing his hair out of his face brought him back into the present.
His eye fluttered open, meeting the eyes of the woman below him, her easy, pleasure filled smile bringing one of his own.
He leaned down, kissing her softly. Silently vowing to himself that he would never let anything threaten her life again, not as long as he lived, that he would never bring her pain ever again.
He held her tightly, breathing out a long, drawn out breath, expelling every bit of the bitter anger and betrayal that clung to him.
As he lay beside her, his softening length still buried inside her, the blissful touch of her hand running through his hair, he listened to the waves outside the open balcony doors, the calls of seabirds reminding him of where he was, where he would spend the rest of his days with her by his side.
It brought him more peace than he ever could have imagined.
~~
With Aemond’s absence, and subsequently Vhagar’s absence from the frontlines, the Greens quickly succumbed to the Blacks.
She held tightly to Aemond’s hand as her father read outloud the letter sent from Rhaenyra who now sat the throne. He gave no reaction as he heard of Otto’s execution, of Aegon’s demise in the black cells. He barely twitched as he heard his mother was to be sequestered in the Red Keep, forced to live out the rest of her life in solitude.
The only emotion he showed was the breath he let out when he heard Daeron was to remain in Oldtown, with strict orders never to return to King’s Landing. He was thankful his younger brother never played a role in the war, that his life was spared from a gruesome fate.
Helaena looked forlorn, her eyes cast down to her hands that fidgeted in her lap. She left for a reason, she had escaped with her children, an act she would never regret, but it didn’t lessen the unease in her heart.
She always knew this was how it would end.
The knowledge that Aegon would never touch her again was a shining ray of light in the storm of dark clouds that was the news of the demise of her family.
They were dismissed quickly, her mother throwing her a wary look as Aemond practically sprinted from the room as if it were deprived of air he desperately needed.
She walked at a slow pace, knowing he’d need a few minutes to himself to take in the news. Making her way through the gardens, she knew exactly where he’d be, where he often found himself in moments of deep thoughts and contemplation.
She knew he didn’t regret leaving, but some days the decision was harder to swallow than others.
Within a few minutes, she found him sitting on the bench in front of the billowing willow tree, the place they had first spoken, the place he had complimented her drawings, the place where she had made him laugh as if they were old friends rather than new acquaintances.
He didn’t look up as she approached.
The only indication he gave to her presence was the long breath he let out as she took a seat next to him.
“I’m fine.” He spoke impatiently, as if to assure her so he could be left to his torturous solitude.
“You know I don’t believe that.” She admonished softly, making no move to leave.
His foot tapped erratically against the stone below him, his teeth biting his bottom lip, his shoulders hunched, the very picture of discontent. Frowning, she placed her hand on his arm, sliding down the length of his tense muscles until she found his hand, intertwining their fingers.
“I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re feeling.”
“I can’t quite make sense of it myself.” He admitted quietly.
“I know you’re not happy Rhaenyra is on the throne-”
“I don’t care about that.” He spoke abruptly, his tone becoming sharp. “Our lives would have been much easier if that damned chair didn’t exist.”
She knew since coming to Ixtal, after the month of peace they’d had without his family breathing down his neck, forcing his every move, he could breathe easier. But it was still his family, his own brother and grandsire who had perished in the war.
“Aemond,” She began softly. “Talk to me, please.”
“I know what my brother was. I won’t pretend to mourn him.”
“You do not have to.”
His eyes held a vacant look, as he retreated into the mess of thoughts in his head. He knew what his grandsire had done, the game he had played long before he had even been born. He knew the retribution Otto faced was well deserved.
It didn’t cause him much grief.
It was the thought of his mother that left his insides twisting in a way he hadn’t anticipated.
“It doesn’t seem like enough.” He whispered, his words almost lost to the wind.
“What doesn’t?”
“She tried to take you from me yet she lives.”
Her breath caught in her throat. She had never had a close bond with Aemond’s mother but after she had been told what had happened that fateful night they left, what caused her husband’s tears, her view of Alicent had been forever changed.
Aemond held tightly to her hand, as if saying the words aloud were too much to handle.
He let out a shaking breath, pinching the bridge of his nose, he could feel a headache coming on, one that was all too familiar when it came to the derision his family caused him.
“It does not seem a fitting punishment yet I’m… relieved. I don’t think I truly want her dead.”
Aemond didn’t know what to make of what he felt for his mother. He was angered she still drew breath yet relieved she hadn’t been killed brutally by Rhaenyra, yet he still couldn’t stomach the thought of her, not after what she’d done.
“Of course you don’t. No matter what she’s done, she’s still your mother.”
He thinks to himself that he doesn’t deserve her, this wonderful woman in front of him, the only one to truly see him.
When he lies with his wife, when he sees her beautiful smile, when he feels her touch on his skin, he thinks he’d be content if his mother never saw the light of day again, yet deep down, the guilt festers.
He was the reason their side lost. His departure was the sole reason Aegon and Otto are dead, the reason his mother is confined for the rest of her days.
He can’t find himself regretting his actions, knowing the outcomes, yet he can’t help but feel as though he had failed his family.
The sense of duty they had instilled in him was screaming, raging at him for what he had done. But he wasn’t that man they raised him to be.
He was the man who fell in love with his best friend. He was the man who finally felt love as a child from a girl who tried endlessly to get him to see the beauty in himself and the world around him.
The part of him that felt guilty for his mother was soon crushed out by the love he held for his wife. When he looked at her, he realized no one had ever truly cared for him but her. No one had ever had his best interest at heart except her.
He squeezed her hand in his, finally letting his gaze reach hers, the concern in her eyes melting a part of him that desperately needed to be melted.
“I don’t regret a single moment with you.” He tells her, the look in his eye now soft, no longer shrouded in agony and confusion.
She smiles softly, still worried for him, worried for what the news would cause him.
“Aemond-”
“I just want to think about our future.” He interrupted, knowing exactly what fears lay on her tongue, fearing much of the same for himself.
But he would cross that bridge when he came to it. He would feel the moments of guilt, of relief, of whatever other emotion his family would cause him, as they came.
He didn’t fear what he would feel because he knew the woman he loved would be there to soothe him in every one of those dark moments. His family, though they may try, couldn’t hurt him anymore.
“I want to raise our children here, where they won’t know any pressures of the court or successions, of war or conflict.”
“Are you sure you don’t-”
“Protecting you was and will always be my number one priority.” He assured her before she could even voice her question about his regret.
Her smile was much more genuine, his words soothing the anxiety she felt at his reaction. He felt himself smile at the sight before him, eased merely by her presence.
He leaned in, kissing her softly, letting his forehead rest against hers.
“You were always my purpose.”
His whispered words were assurances they both clung to in the face of uncertainty.
Tension would always exist as long as their enemy sat on the throne, but they were content, miles away, across the sea where their love flourished, where they would start their family.
No one would take that away from them.
~~
A year had passed peacefully. No further word from King’s Landing came. Helaena and her children thrived in the beauty that was Ixtal. The eccentric Princess made many friends with the ladies in court, finally feeling as though she could be herself without judgment, without fearing retribution or gossip. She no longer felt the pressure to be the perfect image of a Targaryen Princess.
Aemond had quickly found his place alongside her younger brother in leading the city watch. He melded into his new life with an ease she hadn’t expected.
Her own father accepted Aemond into their council, his voice soon becoming a valuable and respected asset to the island and its governance with most of the realm.
Their new life was everything they wanted.
Until the day their past caught up to them.
“My Lady?” She looked up to notice her guard approaching, a nervous expression painting his features. “A dragon has been spotted approaching our shores. Shall I request your husband?”
Her face was drawn tightly and she shook her head brusquely. She knew exactly who would be accosting them.
“No, I will handle it.”
She walked determinedly to the throne room, her guard following behind her worriedly.
“Where is my father?”
“In a council meeting.”
“And my husband is with him?”
“Yes, my Lady.”
“Good.” She breathed out. She didn’t need either of them catching wind of their guest’s arrival and causing a stir. “You are dismissed.” She spoke to her guard whose eyes widened at the command, his mouth opening to refuse, but she gave him a pointed look.
“I can handle this, Ser Jerrod.”
The guard sighed defeatedly and gave her a look of resignation.
“I am telling your husband of your orders when he comes to punish me.”
Aemond had developed quite the reputation of being protective of his wife, the guards were terrified to obey her orders when they knew they would face the ire of her dragon husband.
“I will take the blame, I promise you.” She assured him with a smirk.
As her guard left, leaving her alone in the throne room, she let out a long breath, her heart racing as she prepared herself for what she would soon face.
Only minutes later, the great doors opened and Queen Rhaenyra entered, her face hardened, bitter anger in her eyes.
Her steps faltered, her powerful pace slowing as she met the eyes of the person she had least expected.
Rhaenyra spoke her name slowly, her entire demeanor changed, abruptly thrown off from her course of murderous rage that darkened her thoughts, that prompted her abrupt arrival.
She breathed deeply, straightening her posture as she steeled her expression, putting on the mask of anger back into place.
“I’m sure you know why I am here.”
“I do.” She answered Rhaenyra cooly, her posture relaxed, an exact contrast from the woman before her who looked as though she was unraveling.
The dark circles under her eyes did not go unnoticed.
“I need to see Aemond.”
“That’s not going to happen, Rhaenyra, you know that.”
“He needs to pay for what he did.” The woman spoke through gritted teeth, angry tears filling her eyes.
She stared at the woman, the Queen, before her for a few long seconds, taking in her state of weariness with a heavy sigh, which only seemed to upset Rhaenyra further, her face turning red, her jaw clenching as she took a mighty step towards her.
“He killed my son!”
“And you killed mine!” She yelled back, matching her with the ferocity only a devastated mother could have.
The reminder of what Rhaenyra agreed to, what she allowed Daemon to do, made her face crumble, her eyes falling to the floor, refusing to meet the gaze of the woman in front of her, the woman she had made lose everything.
She never wished the loss of a child on any woman, yet here she was, standing face to face with the woman with whom she had directly caused the greatest sorrow.
“Gods, Rhaenyra, do you think yourself innocent, do you think you are absolved of punishment from your place in this war?”
“I know I am not.” She choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I did not start this. Your husband must pay for what he has done.”
“My husband does not hold this blame alone. This war would’ve happened no matter who laid the first blow, you know that.”
“They usurped my crown!”
“Yet you sit on the throne and the only reason you do is because Aemond chose to step down from the fight.”
Rhaenyra’s jaw tightened, the fury in her eyes taking over her grief.
“You did not come here to wager about succession.”
“No, I came to kill my brother.” Rhaenyra stated simply, her glare deepening when the woman in front of her scoffed.
“Aemond is under Ixtal’s protection. He has no governance under the crown.”
“Your father is an honorable man, he will do what is right-”
Her sarcastic laugh stopped Rhaenyra mid sentence, the older woman scowling at the young woman before her with blooming hatred.
“My father does not know all the details about what happened that night in King’s Landing, why I was attacked, how I lost my baby. If he knew it was you and Daemon that orchestrated it, that you were the reason he lost his grandchild, no force in this realm could save you.” She threatened, delighting in the way Rhaenyra shrunk under her pointed words.
“Your position is tentative, Rhaenyra. Most of the realm despises you, especially after this senseless war. The smallfolk in King’s Landing are starving, the Lords of great houses are fed up with your trade arrangements, raising taxes, abandoning treaties.” She started, her voice low with animosity that steadily grew with each passing second she stood before her.
Rhaenyra looked surprised by what she knew, the details that hounded her night after night, the reason she was berated practically daily in court by smallfolk and Lords alike.
“Most leaders in this realm hate you, you have little support anymore. If my father were to break tradition and take a stand against your position, how many houses do you think would remain loyal to you?”
Rhaenyra remained silent, her face twisted with disdain, mostly because she knew she had no argument.
“If you threaten my husband, if you plan some heinous attack on his life, if you darken Ixtal with your presence again, I will tell my father the role you played in my attack and nothing will stop him from marching to the gates of King’s Landing, with the support of the entire realm behind him.” She warned darkly. “Don’t forget, we’re the reason you still have food on your plates. You shouldn’t bite the hand that feeds you.”
“Who do you think you are to threaten me? I am your Queen.” Rhaenyra raged, losing what little control she had left.
“You think you can threaten me?” She countered. “That’s what you came here for, wasn’t it? To exert what little power you have left to boost your ego, to enact revenge for a bitter fight you caused.”
Rhaenyra flinched, her face twisted with derision at her words.
“Don’t pretend you have no role in this, Rhaenyra, you are smarter than that.” She added before the queen could speak another senseless word. “You pretended some measly words against your sons were more dire than a child who lost an eye. You added fire to an already growing inferno and you think they would, what? Live in peace?”
Rhaenyra gazed past her, refusing to look her in the eye.
“I am truly sorry about what happened to Lucerys.”
“Don’t say his name.” Rhaenyra seethed.
“A son for a son, that was what you wanted, wasn’t it?”
Rhaenyra flinched, swallowing harshly against the lump in her throat, the guilt she still felt for her role in such a violent act drowning her, especially now as she faced the woman she hurt directly.
“You got what you wanted, so consider us even.” She choked out through her own growing emotions, the memory of that night still haunting her. “Now leave.”
She watched, feeling victorious as Rhaenyra bowed her head, unable to look at her, as she turned on her heel and began to walk to the door in defeat.
“You may sit on that throne but it is my house that holds the power.” She called out before she could leave the room. “Remember that next time you get the urge to visit again.”
The door closed behind the Queen and she let out a long breath, feeling as though a weight had been lifted from her shoulders, having spoken to the reason for her attack for the first time, having expelled her anger towards the woman who had caused her greatest loss.
She let her shoulders relax, suddenly realizing how tense her entire body had become. She turned on her heel and stopped abruptly as she noticed Aemond in the doorway across the room.
His face was passive, she couldn’t read a single emotion on his face. Even after all their time together, she still had trouble reading him in moments when he was guarded.
“How long have you been here?”
“Long enough.” He answered vaguely. A moment passed before he let a small smile grow and she breathed out, laughing slightly as she approached him. “I quite like seeing that side of you.”
“You are not mad?”
“Mad?” He asked in disbelief and laughed. “No, I think you handled that with much more grace than I ever could.”
He held his hand out to her as she came before him, taking her hand in his and pressed a kiss to her knuckles.
“In fact, seeing you defend me as valiantly as you did was quite… stirring.”
She rolled her eyes and pushed at his chest.
“Aemond.” She admonished. “This is serious.”
“It is and you handled yourself as if you’ve been ruling for years.”
She sighed in annoyance, the praise not having the effect she expected. She felt as though he was avoiding the seriousness of what happened, or how wrong things could have turned out.
“Your sister arrived to kill you and all you can do is compliment me?”
Aemond’s smile faltered, his demeanor changing in an instant, the cool air around him gone.
“I have to live with what I did… to Lucerys.” He admitted quietly. “She must live with what she did. It’s like you said, we are even.”
She intertwined their fingers, her hand squeezing his in a silent show of comfort. She knew he still felt immense guilt about what had happened that night, for what she endured as a result of it.
He still had nights when he couldn’t face it.
“Do you think she will retaliate?” She asked quietly and Aemond shook his head, clearing his throat and the air of intensity surrounding him as his easy smile returned.
“Not unless she wants another verbal lashing from you.”
She scoffed and looked at her husband plainly. He pulled her towards him, a serious look in his eye even as his smirk remained.
“If she ever dares to return, she will have to face Vhagar.” He told her. “I would never let her hurt you or anyone on this Island.”
She breathed out in relief. She didn’t want it to ever come to that, but to hear it so plainly, the lengths Aemond would go to protect her, to protect her family and their home, was a strange comfort.
He kissed her forehead and looked at her with a gaze full of nothing but love, the words she had said to Rhaenyra in his defense running around his head. He would not soon forget it, the way she stood up for him.
Her name was called from across the hall, breaking the moment between them.
They turned to see her younger sister approaching, their smiles widening as they saw the bundle she carried in her arms.
“Sorry to interrupt, but she was getting fussy. I think she’s missing you two.”
Aemond met her halfway, his arms already outstretched to take his daughter from his good sister. He whispered his thanks, his gaze locked onto the babe in his arms, his precious girl.
At only 3 moons old, she was the greatest light in his life, aside from her mother of course. She had him wrapped around her little finger the second she took her first breath.
“Thank you for looking after her.” She told her sister and stood by Aemond’s side, latching onto his arm as they both gazed down at their child.
“Is everything ok? I heard there was a dragon spotted.” Her sister inquired.
She looked over at Aemond, but he seemed too engrossed in their daughter to have even heard the question.
“Everything’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about, she won’t be coming back.” She assured her sister who nodded and quickly made her exit, sensing the couple wanted to be alone with their little family.
Together, they walked out of the palace and through the gardens, coming to the familiar bench by the willow tree.
Aemond sat, sparsely taking his eyes off his daughter. Next to him, his wife laughed, continually amused at how effortlessly their daughter mesmerized him.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and reached out, gently tracing her finger over her daughter’s chubby cheeks that grinned at her touch, making a noise of contentment as she wriggled in her father’s arms.
Aemond placed a kiss to her forehead and she raised her head, meeting his gaze.
Their smiles grew at the same time, the same thought running through their minds. They had made it.
Whispered promises made in the beginning of their love had finally come true.
They had their family and nothing could take it from them.
~~
Thank you all for reading and coming with me and this wild ride! All of your comments have meant the absolute world to me and I'm just so happy I got to share this with you all xx
There will be an epilogue so this will not be the end of Aemond and his Sun xx
~~
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